


Take it on Faith

by Odalis88



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Caretaker Alex, Dog adoption, Drunk Michael, Handprint (Roswell), Happy Ending, M/M, Malex is Endgame, Psychic Bond, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odalis88/pseuds/Odalis88
Summary: Alex and Michael’s journey to find each other again includes a sexy fantasy of what might have happened the night of Alex’s performance if Michael had made difference choices, a drunken bender, and a rescue puppy.
Relationships: Forrest Long & Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Michael Guerin & Alex Manes, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 103
Kudos: 130





	1. Masochist

**Author's Note:**

> This fic isn't going to villainize Forrest - I personally like the character a lot - but it isn't heavy on Forrest/Alex content. Obviously Michael and Alex are endgame.
> 
> Also, I realize there may be some kind of grooming standards for the Air Force. I considered that they may have rules regarding earrings and facial hair, but I didn't bother to do any research to confirm this. In this fic, Alex is almost done with his enlistment, so I may have bent the rules a little *sorry, not sorry*

You’d think he’d be used to seeing them together by now. It had been three weeks since Alex had wrung out Michael’s heart by playing that song he wrote about them at open-mic night at the Wild Pony. Three weeks since he walked out, determined to give Alex a shot at being happy with someone who seemed genuine and totally into him. 

The worst part was that he actually liked Forrest. Admittedly, he didn’t know him on a deep level, but from everything he’d seen Forrest was kind and smart and caring. He didn’t have all the baggage that weighed Michael down. And he clearly adored Alex – how could Michael blame him for that? They were in total agreement there. Adoring Alex was the easiest thing in the world. 

No, the worst part was second-guessing his choices that night. Everything had been so clear three weeks ago. He’d still been a little raw over his breakup with Maria and wanted to give Alex the opportunity they’d never had: to be out and proud and happy with a nice, _normal_ guy without the guillotine that was his father’s disapproval looming over his head. 

But Michael loved him enough to not want him to have any doubts. He thought, maybe, if he had stayed that night, if he had poured out his heart as Alex had done on stage, that he could have easily diverted his attention from Forrest. But would Alex have looked back weeks or months later and wondered what could have been? 

Michael had given into his feelings for Maria, given himself to her, and learned and grew from the experience. The pair fit well enough together that, if Alex wasn’t in the picture, he could see a future for them. Knowing what he knew now, he was certain no one could eclipse Alex in his heart. He had no doubts. Alex deserved to be just as confident in his decision. Michael owed him that much and he had to believe that if they were truly meant to be together, they would find each other in the end. 

But it still felt like a knife twisting in his gut every time he ran into the pair of them. Was this anywhere near what Alex had felt when he’d seen him and Maria together? Because it fucking sucked. 

Michael saw them through a window at the Crashdown. They were sitting across from each other at a booth with a half-eaten plate of onion rings between them and two shakes. Journals lay open in front of them and he wondered if they were writing song lyrics. 

He already knew he had a masochistic streak in him because he didn’t hesitate to enter the cafe even though that hadn’t been his original destination. Michael walked straight to the counter and ordered a burger and fries to go, milling around while he waited and trying not to be obvious about observing them. 

Apparently he was not subtle. 

“Alien guy!” 

Forrest had spotted him and calling him out made Alex spin around in his seat. 

Michael gave what felt like an awkward, stilted wave and walked over to them. “Alex, Forrest.” Since the last time he’d seen him, Alex had gotten his ear pierced again. The tiny silver hoop in his left ear brought back memories of high school, but he definitely hadn’t had the sexy facial hair back then. Michael liked that he was letting it grow out.

“Haven’t run into you at the library lately. How’s the research coming?”

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, hoping he wasn’t making his ‘homicide face’ at Forrest, as Izzy called it. “Sadly, I have determined that there are no aliens in Roswell. It’s just a crazy conspiracy theory. I’m now attempting to prove that reptilians control the government.”

Alex, whose lips had quirked up into a smirk at Michael’s assertion that aliens were a hoax, now broke into a full grin. “I can help you with that one. They do not.”

“Of course, you have to say that.” Michael winked conspiratorially and leaned down, lowering his voice. “But I’m going to uncover the truth.”

“Good luck,” Alex said, still smiling broadly. 

Michael’s order was called and he gave Alex’s shoulder what he hoped was a friendly pat and nodded once at Forrest, again working to keep his face neutral. “Later.”

He grabbed his food and left as quickly as he could without actually running. It would eventually get easier, right? Maybe one day seeing them together wouldn’t feel like someone was shoving hot coals down his throat. 

And did Alex have to _smile_ at him like that??

Michael was not remotely hungry when he returned to the airstream. The food got stuffed into the mini fridge and he hesitated before pulling out his secret shame. The night Alex and Maria were attacked by Travis – a literal ax-wielding maniac – they came back here to clean and dress the small stab wound Alex had received in the melee. Michael had given him a clean shirt the next morning and Alex’s bloodied undershirt had been left behind. Moved by reasons he did not care to explore, he’d kept it. 

He wasn’t really one to keep mementos or souvenirs. He traveled extremely light and he certainly did not need this bloody piece of fabric to remember Alex. Still, he couldn’t toss it. 

Michael lifted the shirt to his face, hoping to catch Alex’s scent. It was still there – barely. He’d had it for so long that it was starting to smell like rain, like himself. Their combined scent triggered memories of them together and he started to get hard. Maybe a good jerk-off session was exactly what he needed right now. 

Not wanting to sully Alex’s shirt, he stowed it back in its hiding spot, then tugged off his own before reclining on the bed. Unbidden, images of that night three weeks ago came to the forefront of his mind and he imagined what he might have done differently. Maybe he decided to stay this time. Maybe he didn’t care about Forrest’s presence and intercepted Alex as soon as he was finished singing. Maybe he finally gave Alex the words he’d never had the courage to say to his face: I love you. Not just 10 years ago, then and now, always and forever. 

Michael unzipped his jeans and let himself get lost in the fantasy.


	2. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael imagines what might have happened the night of Alex's performance at the Wild Pony if he had made different choices, if he decided their time was *now*

_Michael unzipped his jeans and let himself get lost in the fantasy._

Alex sang the last notes and the bar applauded, but Michael was already halfway to the stage. Alex’s eyes held his as Michael approached him. “Alex, that was...”

“Halfway decent?” he asked with a self deprecating grin. 

Michael inhaled a shaky breath. “Spectacular.” 

Alex looked at him with those dark, empathetic eyes and the crowd fell away. His hand lifted towards Michael but dropped before making contact, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch him. 

“Your hand is uncovered,” he said softly, sharp gaze missing nothing. Michael had decided it was time to remove the bandanna largely because of him. To prove to Alex and himself that he was ready to move on from the painful memories of the past. He didn’t want to be that person anymore, holding on to his anger and hurt. He wanted to be worthy of Alex, to _be_ more like him. 

Michael reached out and adjusted his collar, though it didn’t need it, and ran his hands down Alex’s chest. “Alex... I want to come home. Can I –” 

Alex interrupted him with a hasty, “Yes.” He took a half step closer, desire clouding his eyes. “That’s all I want. Michael...”

Michael leaned forward, drawn to him like a gravitational force field, and Alex cut himself off to meet him halfway in a bruising kiss. It had been too long since he’d sampled his lips and it took every ounce of self restraint to remember where they were and that they had an audience. Michael pulled back, smiling at the dazed, hungry expression on Alex’s face. 

“Take me home?” It was both a question and a demand. Alex didn’t respond except to grab his hand and tug him towards the parking lot. 

Michael’s fantasy had them flash immediately to Alex’s bedroom. He would never get enough of Alex’s fierce kisses, like he wanted to devour Michael as much as Michael did him. But he had to pause, he had to tell him...

It was difficult to pull away because Alex kept chasing his lips – but he had to know. “Alex,” he mumbled in the scant space between them, “You’re it for me. I’ve known since I was 17, but was too pigheaded –” 

“No, it was me. I pushed you away. I’ve been –” 

“I love you,” Michael said, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders, a weight he hadn’t realized was there until it was gone. “I love you and I’ve never said the words. I think you knew, but I needed to tell you.”

Alex grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely. “I love you too,” he said between kisses. Then his hands were beneath Michael’s shirt, caressing his stomach around the waistband of his jeans. Michael immediately removed the layers between them so they were both bare from the waist up. They fell onto Alex’s bed and he rolled so that he was straddling Michael’s hips. 

“God, I missed this,” Alex mumbled against Michael’s chest, breath tickling deliciously. “I missed your touch, your scent...” He inhaled deeply, making Michael shiver, then kissed and licked his way to each of his nipples before continuing down to where Michael was absolutely throbbing in want of him. 

“Ah, damn it,” Alex mumbled, wincing and pulling back. “I need to take off the leg. Take these off,” he ordered, tugging on a pinch of fabric from Michael’s jeans. 

Michael removed his pants and briefs while Alex did the same, then watched as he removed the prosthetic. He reached for Alex once he was free of it and they collapsed back on the bed. Michael kissed him desperately, for all the times in the last decade that he’d wanted to and couldn’t. Alex moaned into his mouth, his fingers digging so hard into the flesh at the back of Michael’s neck and shoulders he thought he might have bruises the next day. 

Being with a man was different than being with a women. While Michael enjoyed both, he always felt like he had to hold a part of himself back and err on the side of gentleness when he was with a woman so as not to hurt his partner. He missed the aggression, almost a desperation to push boundaries and get as close to each other as they could. He missed the hard muscles and planes of a man’s body. 

But as Alex was the only man he’d ever slept with, he didn’t know if it was a gender thing or a _them_ thing. 

Alex reached down between them and took Michael in hand. “Flip around,” he murmured against his lips. “I want to taste you.”

Michael did as directed, laying on his side eye-level with Alex’s erection. God, he missed Alex’s body. Michael gave him a few swift strokes and hissed in pleasure when Alex took him into his mouth. “Fuck, I forgot how good you are at that.”

He hummed in response and took Michael deeper. 

Not climaxing immediately suddenly took a lot of concentration. To give himself something else to focus on, Michael turned his attention to Alex’s wet-tipped dick, taking him into his mouth. He smiled internally when Alex’s rhythm faltered. Michael liked knowing he still had that effect on him. 

Alex pulled back, breathing raggedly. “Fuck, Michael.”

Michael released his cock just long enough to say, “Maybe next round,” before swallowing deeply again. They gave themselves over to sensation, to the love they felt for each other. All Michael wanted was to give Alex pleasure. 

He didn’t know how long they lay like that, but it seemed like all too soon that Michael was losing the battle to keep his climax at bay. He didn’t even get the chance to warn Alex before he was coming down the other man’s throat. Luckily, Alex followed him a second after and Michael was rewarded with a mouthful of Alex’s sweet essence. 

Expending the last of his energy, Michael flipped around so he could share Alex’s pillow, laying on his side facing him. Alex threw a possessive arm across Michael’s waist and his eyes shuttered, breath leveling out almost instantly. 

Even though Michael was exhausted, he kept his heavy eyelids from falling, wanting to stay in this moment for the rest of his life. 

A loud, unwelcome clanging from somewhere in the junkyard jolted Michael from his peaceful fantasy and he cursed. He was exhausted and covered in sweat and cum – and he was alone. His discarded shirt cleaned him off well enough and then he lay back down, trying desperately to return to that perfect moment in Alex’s arms, enjoying the afterglow. 

Michael fell asleep repeating a hopeful mantra in his head, maybe if he thought it enough, wanted it enough, he could will it into existence: 

_Alex and I are cosmic. However long this fling with Forrest lasts, it would be nothing next to the 10 years we’d already weathered. I have faith in us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original end to this little one-shot. It used to be a single chapter, one and done. Then I decided to merge it with another work in progress - the drunk Michael one that's coming up next - which means I get to give Michael a happier ending than this :)


	3. Inebriated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is called upon to care for a very inebriated Michael

_One week later_

Alex entered the Wild Pony somewhat cautiously, not knowing what to expect. Maria’s text only said that it was urgent he get here. 

“Alex!” Maria spotted him and came out from behind the bar to greet him with a one-armed side hug. “Thanks for getting here so fast. I need you to take Michael home.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“He’s a drunk mess. Normally the police take him off my hands when he’s this far out of it, but...”

Alex’s gaze zeroed in on Michael, laying down in a booth, apparently unconscious. This was going to be fun. 

Not. 

“But…” he prompted her. 

“I don’t want him to be taken to jail!” She looked at him like it had been his suggestion. “He used to get angry-drunk and start fights. This is more sad-drunk. He doesn’t need cops, he needs to sleep it off.” Maria walked over to Michael and Alex followed. 

“Can I ask why you called me? Why not Max or –”

“Ever since Max begged for his old job back, Valenti has him on all the crap shifts so he’s busy, and Isobel isn’t back from visiting with Rosa.” His face must have shown surprise or her psychic sense picked up on it because she elaborated, a slight edge to her voice, “She’s been spending more time with Rosa ever since Liz left for California.” 

She looked reluctant to give any praise to Isobel Evans, but suddenly everything clicked. Maria approved of what Isobel was doing and was impressed despite herself. 

“She doesn’t want Rosa to feel alone or abandoned.” 

“Liz and I haven’t abandoned her. I visit and Liz calls a lot.” Maria glanced away. “But it is kinda nice she wants to give Rosa another lifeline.” She met his gaze again, remembering why she’d called him there in the first place and gestured at Michael. “Take him home. I’m down one tall, hot bartender and can’t babysit him right now.”

She turned away before Alex had a chance to say anything else. Sighing, he bent down and shook Michael’s shoulder. 

“Hey, wake up. I’m gonna take you home. Guerin.” Alex pulled him into a seated position and met his unfocused eyes. 

The corners of Michael’s lips turned down in a dejected frown. “Alex?”

“Yeah. Come on, stand up.”

“Alex?” Michael managed to stand, but leaned heavily on Alex as they made their way slowly and clumsily to the parking lot. 

“You’re lucky I’m not on my crutch anymore,” Alex muttered to himself, grateful he was able to support half of Michael’s weight without his prosthetic leg collapsing under him. Louder he asked, “What, Guerin?”

Michael looked down at his legs in confusion. “Where’s your crutch? Did you lose it? I’ll help you find it,” he slurred, clearly only comprehending that single word. He glanced around the parking lot like he expected to see it laying somewhere on the ground. 

Alex opened the passenger side door to his SUV, shoved an uncooperative Michael into the seat, and buckled him in. “Forget about my crutch.”

“Don’t leave me alone,” Michael said, grabbing his hand clumsily when Alex made to shut the door. “Come to the museum with me.” 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Alex assured him, not knowing what to make of his ‘museum’ comment, but then, he was very drunk. “I’m just going around to the driver’s side.”

“Alex,” Michael said for a third time once Alex was inside and they were underway. “You shouldn’t have come. Maria shouldn’t have called you.”

Pain lacerated Alex’s chest at the words. “You don’t want to see me?”

“No. I-I mean, yes. I don’t want to bother you –” 

“It’s no trouble –”

“– and your boyfriend.”

Alex sighed then noticed his surroundings. Without realizing it, he was driving them to his house rather than Michael’s airstream. “Don’t worry about Forrest. He’s pulling an all-nighter at the library.” 

For a split second, Alex considered turning around and heading for the junkyard, but Michael chose that moment to mutter, “I feel sick,” and he decided getting him out of the vehicle as soon as possible seemed like the smarter choice. 

Then, remembering their earlier exchange, Michael made a sound of disgust. “ _Forrest_. What do you see in him?”

Pulling into his driveway, Alex killed the engine and went around the SUV to help Michael out. “I thought you liked Forrest. You were friendly acquaintances last time I checked.” Alex somehow managed to get Michael inside and on the couch. The futon in his spare room seemed impossibly far away given Michael’s current state. 

“Nope. Don’t like him. Very fishy. And suspect. And his eyes are too close together. Don’t leave!” He clutched tightly at Alex’s sleeve when he stood up. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’m just getting you some water,” Alex said soothingly. “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, Michael was laying on his side on the couch, seemingly asleep. Alex placed a glass of water and two Aspirin on the coffee table. He also sat a 5-gallon bucket snagged from his utility closet on the floor in front of Michael – just in case. He moved to leave, but Michael’s eyes shot open. 

“Stay with me?”

“Uh, yeah. Until you fall asleep, I guess.” Alex sat next to Michael’s head, swallowing uncomfortably when Michael shifted to use his thigh as a pillow. 

“I’ll stay awake then,” Michael murmured sleepily. 

“What?” Absently, Alex threaded his fingers into Michael’s curls and gently caressed his scalp. 

“Help me stay awake. I miss you when you go away.”

Alex’s heart broke at that. Knowing Michael was so drunk it was unlikely he would remember this in the morning gave him the courage to speak the first thought that entered his head without editing it first. “I miss you too.”


	4. Eclipse

Head throbbing, Michael woke up in a very uncomfortable position. His spine was twisted and his head was resting on something...not hard, definitely not soft, but somehow both. He tried to sit up slowly to keep the room from spinning too badly but his hair was caught in something. 

He received a shock when he realized his “pillow” was Alex’s thigh and his hair was snared in Alex’s fingers. How had he gotten here? Had he shown up on Alex’s doorstep last night drunk off his ass? He thought he’d been in a semi-healthy headspace the last couple weeks. This was a major step back. 

Loath as he was to admit it, maybe he needed some sibling-time with Max and Isobel. He’d call them later – once his monster headache had dispersed. 

His movements caused Alex to jolt awake and he looked at Michael like he couldn’t remember how they’d come to wake up together on his couch. 

“Morning. I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here. How do you feel? Oh, but first: Aspirin.” He pointed to the coffee table and Michael obediently swallowed the pills. They wouldn’t help, but they wouldn’t do any damage either. And if it made Alex feel better…

“I feel like warmed-over crap. What am I doing here?”

Alex stood and limped to the kitchen; he didn’t like sleeping in his prosthetic. He needed caffeine almost as much as he needed to put some space between himself and a gorgeous, sleep-rumpled Michael. “You were making a nuisance of yourself at the Pony and Maria asked me to take you home. How much do you remember?” 

Pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes in a vain effort to stop the pain, he asked, “Did you and I have a threesome with a Mexican wrestler named _El Gringo Toxico?_ ” 

Alex barked out a laugh. “Uh, no, but it sounds like you had some wild dreams last night.” Michael’s casual mention of a threesome made Alex think of the one and only time he’d had one, several months ago with Michael and Maria. His traitorous body reacted to the memory and Alex was glad to have the kitchen’s bar to hide behind until he could reign in his arousal. It had been the last time he’d touched him, kissed him, loved him, the way Michael deserved. The last time Michael had touched _him_...

“Uh, I need coffee before I do anything, but your truck’s still at the Wild Pony. I’ll take you there.” Observing Michael’s pathetic hungover glare, he amended, “We’ll just go straight to your trailer.”

Michael was still cradling his head in his hands when Alex was caffeinated and ready to go. “You okay?” 

“I could really use some acetone right now.”

“Oh shit, I forgot. I don’t have any.” He mentally kicked himself for not thinking ahead. Now Michael was in pain and he had no way of easing it. Of course Aspirin would be useless on him. 

“Really?” Michael stood and walked ahead of Alex outside. “You look so good with nail polish on. I miss that, the black polish, the septum piercing. It was hot. I like that the earring’s back though.”

The unexpected compliment took Alex off guard and he froze a few feet from the SUV. “Are you still drunk?”

Michael appeared to be even more shocked at own his words than Alex was. “Uh… maybe,” he said after a long pause. 

“I can stop by the pharmacy,” Alex said as he pulled out of his driveway, trying not to show how flustered Michael’s comment had made him. “Get you some nail polish remover.”

Michael rested his forehead on the cool glass of the window. “No, just take me back to the junkyard. I have some in my trailer.”

Alex did as directed, waiting until after Michael had taken a few deep swallows before asking, “Are you okay, Guerin? Should I be worried?” 

Sitting in the doorway of the airstream, Michael gave him a look of incomprehension. “Why?”

Reluctantly, Alex pressed on, unsure how Michael would take this and hoping it didn’t come across as controlling or condescending. “I didn’t think you were drinking like this anymore. I’m… concerned.”

Michael shook his head, then immediately regretted it. He swigged more acetone. “I’m fine. Yesterday was… an anniversary of sorts. I was thinking about it and things got out of control.”

Alex swallowed hard. “I know we aren’t... well, we’re friends, right? You can call me next time you’re feeling like that.”

“Max and Isobel are my friends,” Michael said, more sharply than he intended. “I’ll call one of them.” He didn’t mean to take out his irritation on Alex. After all, he was the one who’d walked away on open-mic night during Alex’s song. 

“Guerin… Michael,” Alex started, a chiding note in his voice he couldn’t help, but Michael talked over him. 

“It was the anniversary of the first time we, uh... at the museum.” Michael held Alex’s gaze steadily. “Our first kiss.”

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but there was a traffic jam between his brain and his lips and nothing came out. Michael continued after a deep sigh. 

“I don’t think I can be _friends_ with you. We tried, but every time I see you I want more than what you can give me right now. We never seem to be ready at the same time, are we? As long as Forrest is making you happy… That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, to be happy. Thank you,” he said, standing up and reaching for the airstream’s door, “for taking care of me last night. You don’t have to worry about me. I promise I won’t go on any more drunken, blackout benders. I will call someone before it gets to that point.”

_Someone, but not me_ , Alex thought, anguish hitting him like a shockwave. 

Michael turned to shut the door, but hesitated to add, “I’ll always be there for you if you need me. I would never turn you away, but for now it might be best if we keep our distance.”


	5. Terminal

_Two days later_

Forrest: _Drinks tonight at the pony?_

Alex stared at the text from his boyfriend for a full five minutes before typing out a response. His mind was still whirling from his last conversation with Michael. 

Alex: _Not really in the mood_

Forrest: _Pizza and btvs marathon?_

Smiling in spite of himself, Alex responded affirmatively. He really did like spending time with Forrest. He was sweet and considerate and never thought the things Alex liked were dumb or childish – like still enjoying a little _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ action every now and then. He was easy to be around and laugh with.

Things with Michael had never been easy. Alex carried a tremendous amount of guilt where Michael was concerned, though rationally he knew not all of it was his to bear. The imprisonment and torture of Michael’s mother, for instance, not to mention the rest of his people at Caulfield, were sins of his forefathers, not him. Michael’s broken hand had also not been his fault directly, but he’d always felt responsible for the pain he’d endured.

He’d allowed Michael to drive him away after their senior year with his reckless and lawless behavior, and he’d allowed his father to keep them apart even after he’d returned to Roswell a decade later. He and Michael had never had a healthy, _functional_ relationship. They were barely friends, yet every time Alex laid eyes on him, some deeply buried part of him relaxed and thought, _I’m home._ What he wanted more than anything was to have Michael in his life. He wanted them to make it work.

In the dark recesses of his unconscious mind, he’d always known this thing with Forrest had an expiration date. He saw that now; he just hadn’t realized how quickly it would come to pass.

Alex knew what he had to do, but he didn’t know how to rip the band aid off. 

Forrest arrived 30 minutes later, bringing with him a large pepperoni pizza and –

“Buffy!” Alex knelt down in the entryway to greet the glum-looking beagle with head scratches. He learned after getting to know her that she wasn’t as sullen as she first appeared, it was just her expression. She was also on the elderly side, so she wasn’t as energetic as she would have been in her heyday.

Forrest chuckled and gave Alex a quick kiss on the cheek when he stood up, then walked past him to the kitchen. Alex got _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ cued up on Hulu while Forrest brought pizza, plates, napkins, and sodas to the living room. 

“Pepsi okay? You said you weren’t in the mood to go to the Wild Pony, so I assumed that meant you didn’t want alcohol tonight. I can grab you a –”

“No, this is great,” Alex said, taking the can from him. “Thanks.”

They ate their pizza and watched in companionable silence – or what Alex thought was companionable silence. During one of the commercial breaks, Forrest turned to him and asked, “So what’s up? Feels like you’ve been distant the last few days. Do you want to talk about it?”

Alex huffed out a sardonic laugh. Even though he’d been expecting this conversation, he was somehow still surprised by it. “God, you are so... you’re perfect.” He stood up and began pacing, needing to expel the sudden buildup of energy inside of him. “You are mature, confident, emotionally available, you love dogs, you are _very_ attractive...”

Forrest sighed. “It’s Michael, isn’t it? Your ex?” He reached for the remote and paused the show. 

This time Alex laughed for real. “And you’re psychic.” He stopped pacing and looked Forrest in the eye. “How’d you know he was my ex? I never told you his name.”

Forrest’s cheek lifted in a half smile. “Alex, you and Michael are the worst-kept secret in Roswell.”

Alex nodded, not knowing why he was surprised anymore. _Everyone_ knew. It seemed as though his feelings were being broadcast on his forehead and everyone who looked at him could see his desperate love for Michael. He sat back down next to Forrest.

“Also,” Forrest added, “since you and I got together his eyes shoot hate-lasers every time he looks at me. It’s kind of obvious.” 

“I thought that we were done. I didn’t start things up with you thinking that...”

“I know,” Forrest said gently, a kind of sad understanding in his expression. 

“You are going to find someone new in about 10 seconds. You are such catch.”

Forrest chuckled once and squeezed his hand. “Coming from you, that means a lot. But we can still be friends, right? I don’t think our relationship progressed past the point where we can no longer be in the same room together.” 

It also helped that, while they’d messed around, they hadn’t actually slept together. Alex thought they’d been moving at a steady, albeit slow, pace, but now wondered if he hadn’t been holding a piece of himself back instinctively. 

“Oh, yeah,” Alex said, grinning. “I still need to see my little slayer sometimes, isn’t that right, Buffy?” The beagle lifted her head in his direction and wagged her tail once, but otherwise remained unmoved from her spot on the floor. 

“You should get a dog. We could set up play dates. She might move more if she had a friend to play with.”

Alex relaxed back on the couch, resuming the show with Forrest at his side. Forrest really was great, but this was how it was supposed to be between them: friends. 

But not even Spike onscreen could distract him from the anticipation, the expectation of what was coming next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I hope I'm somewhat making up for it by posting daily.


	6. ILYSB

Alex decided to take Forrest’s advice and adopted a dog from the local shelter. His time with the Air Force was ending soon so he’d have ample time to devote to Oz. 

Oz was a year-old terrier mix who kind of looked like a little black and gray werewolf puppy, hence the name. Alex had been unable to resist making a tradition of giving his pets _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ names. He had always adored dogs and loved having a little being to care for and play with. Plus, it would force him to be more active, something he sorely needed ever since he’d lost his leg, even if it was just a leisurely walk once a day. Oz wasn’t a young puppy, but still exhibited mad bouts of puppy-energy from time to time, especially when meeting new people.

While things with Forrest had transitioned into an only slightly awkward friend-zone – they had met in the park yesterday so Buffy and Oz could meet – he hadn’t decided what exactly he wanted to say to Michael. It had only been a few days since he and Forrest had split and he didn’t want Michael to think he was rebounding. _Could_ you rebound from a casual, month-long relationship? He had so little experience in real adult relationships that he didn’t know what the rules were. He _felt_ ready, but would Michael think it was too soon? Would he care?

Alex was still obsessing over these questions when he attended Maria’s next Mexican Market at the Wild Pony and didn’t even notice when she tried to get his attention from across one of the stalls until she was directly in front of him. 

“Alex!” Maria smiled warmly at him and then gasped and knelt down to pick up Oz, who squirmed and panted happily in her arms. “This must be your new puppy! He’s so cute!” She said in that sugary tone you couldn’t help but adopt when talking to animals. 

“Yep, this is Oz. He’s never met a stranger, if you can believe that.” He grinned at his dog, who was enthusiastically licking his best friend’s face. 

“Oh, honey,” Maria said, suddenly giving him her ‘psychic face’. She put down Oz and pulled Alex to a less crowded area of the market so they could converse more easily. “You should talk to him.”

“Who?” He pretended not to know who she meant. 

She rolled her eyes, seeing through him in an instant. “You’ve wasted ten years, don’t waste another minute. You both deserve to be happy.”

Alex grabbed her up into a tight hug and kissed the side of her face. “I love you.” He was immeasurably grateful there were no hard feelings from her where Michael was concerned. While Alex didn’t fault her in the least for falling for him, he’d been scared their friendship would take a blow when she and Michael had broken up – especially since he suspected he was the reason. 

“I love you too. Now go,” she ordered, releasing him and giving him a small push. “He’s been waiting for you long enough.”

Alex still had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew Maria was right. After a decade, they were finally both in the same emotional place at the same time. He didn’t want to waste any more time when it came to Michael. Luckily he found him easily – at the junkyard, elbows-deep in a car engine. 

Michael looked up as he approached with Oz on leash, wiping his hands on a shop rag. 

“Who’s this?”

“My new dog, Oz.”

Alex actually had no idea if Michael was a dog person or not. It wasn’t a subject that had ever come up in the past, but before he had a chance to worry about Oz’s reception, Michael squatted down and let the rambunctious puppy jump up and lick him. He averted his face so all Oz could reach was his neck, but he was smiling widely and it was such a beautiful thing to see.

“I really need to break him of that habit,” Alex mused aloud. Some people hated being licked, but it didn’t particularly bother him so it wasn’t a high priority. 

“So, what’s up?” Michael asked, still petting and loving on Oz, his expression suddenly guarded. “Something wrong?”

“No, I - I wanted to tell you that Forrest and I aren’t together anymore. I don’t know how to do this, I’ve been killing myself for days thinking how...” he paused, taking a deep breath and gathering his thoughts. “You’re right, we’re not friends. We never were. ‘Friend’ is such an empty, hollow word to describe what I feel for you.”

Michael stood up, hopeful, but unable to believe what he was hearing. Alex took a step forward, which Michael mirrored, bringing them almost chest to chest. 

“We had such a powerful connection, right from the beginning, but I let fear and my father’s homophobia infect me. That’s gone now and I’m not afraid anymore. I’m finally ready to tell you…I love you. I’ll tell the world if you –” 

Michael grabbed Alex by the back of the neck and pulled him into a fierce kiss, basking in the delightful scratch of Alex’s short whiskers against his own. If this was a dream or another fantasy he never wanted to wake up from it. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Alex’s, sharing his breath. His hands speared through Alex’s hair, then found the earring in his left ear and played with it. 

“I love you so much,” Michael whispered in the space between them, reveling in _finally_ saying the words. “I’ve always loved you.” 

Alex surged forward again, capturing Michael’s lips in a scorching kiss. 

“Hey, kid!” Sanders' voice boomed out from somewhere behind Michael and they broke apart. “The hell am I paying you for?”

“I’m working!” Michael shouted back, then returned to Alex’s lips. 

Alex could have totally lost himself in the moment if it wasn’t for sweet, hyper little Oz, jumping up and pawing at his legs – and his desire not to get Michael in trouble at work. He released Michael and laughed, feeling lighter than he’d ever felt in his life. “Come to my place for dinner tonight?”

“Like a date?” Michael teased. 

Alex couldn’t stop grinning. “Yeah. I’ll cook for you.”

“Can’t wait.” Michael gave him a few quick, lip-smacking kisses, because that was apparently a thing they could do now, then put a safe distance between them before he threw Alex down over the nearest flat surface. “Just so you know, I’m super easy. I always put out on the first date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'm going to post Saturday or Sunday. Usually my weekends are a lot less busy. I like editing my chapters before I post and every time I read though it I find something new to change or fix and I don't want to half-ass it. May be seeing you next Monday!


	7. Serenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night for Michael and Alex

Alex didn’t know why he was so nervous. He’d been on dates before but this night with Michael felt special, momentous. It was a new beginning. He wanted to get everything right this time, from the words he said down to the meal he prepared. 

And suddenly Alex forgot how to cook. He wasn’t the greatest chef in the world on his best days, but he knew enough to keep himself fed so he didn’t have to rely constantly on takeout. But now, facing the prospect of cooking for Michael for the first time, his mind went completely blank. 

Oz was a great distraction until it was late enough to start seriously thinking about dinner. Alex peppered short training sessions into their play time, as Oz knew only ‘sit’ and only chose to obey it about half the time. 

He ended up making an easy chicken and broccoli pasta dish and was almost done when Michael rang the doorbell at a quarter to seven. After pausing to pick up Oz so he wouldn’t dash outside, Alex opened the door and thought his heart would burst at the sight of Michael. He stood in the doorway wearing his black cowboy hat and holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a pack of doggie treats in the other and looking adorably sheepish. Alex didn’t know which gift he loved more. 

Michael thrust the bouquet unceremoniously at Alex. He’d never gotten them for anyone before - not even Maria - and was equal parts embarrassed and nervous anticipating how Alex would receive them. Did guys like getting flowers? 

But Alex gave him the sweetest smile and a short but thorough kiss on the lips and he was glad he risked it. 

“Thank you. You’re sweet.” Alex didn’t know if something in his tone or facial expression was reading wrong, but Michael gave him a self-deprecating look. 

“I’m full of surprises.”

Holding the flowers in one hand and cradling Oz on his other arm didn’t leave him anyway to reach out to him, though he desperately wanted to. “Guerin, you’ve always been sweet. I knew you when we were kids, remember?”

Michael couldn’t help but smile shyly at the compliment. He liked that Alex thought of him that way. Truthfully, it wasn’t how he viewed himself. After Rosa’s death and Jesse Manes’ attack that had left him with a mangled hand, he’d had to harden his heart, distance himself from those he loved. He thought the boy he used to be had died, the one he’d been whenever Alex was near him. It was kind of spectacular that Alex had found him again. 

Alex gestured him inside, closed the door, and sat down the dog, who immediately greeted him with excited yips and by jumping up and pawing at his legs. 

“Ah,” Alex said sternly. “Sit.”

It was as though he hadn’t spoken. Michael grinned. “Listens about as well as I do.”

Shrugging good-naturedly, Alex moved past him to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. “We’re still working on it. Come in. You’re welcome to spoil him with those while I finish up in here.” He nodded at the dog treats in Michael’s hand. “Dinner will just be a couple minutes.”

“Can I help?” Michael asked, taking off his hat and hanging it on a hook in the hall out of dog-range. 

“I’m good, thanks. Just relax. Do you want a drink?”

Michael sat down cross legged on the floor and started playing rope toy tug-of-war with Oz. “Whatever you’re having.” Alex brought him a beer and he murmured a quiet thanks, chagrined that Alex had been witness to the last time he’d let booze get the better of him. 

Alex finished setting the table and paused to watch Michael play with Oz before he called him over. After Oz had calmed down from the thrill of greeting their visitor, Michael, aided by the treats he’d brought, was actually successful in getting him to sit a few times. Though this made him smile, Alex still had to temper the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface of his outward calm. The thing he’d wanted for so long was within reach and he was terrified of screwing it up. 

All he had to do to get Oz’s attention was fill his food bowl and he came running. Michael followed at a slower pace, coming up to Alex and backing him up against the kitchen counter. Eyes wide, Alex licked his suddenly dry lips, which drew Michael’s attention there at once. Hands resting on the counter on either side of him, Michael leaned forward, making no contact except to press his lips to Alex’s. 

Alex moaned into his mouth and grasped Michael’s forearms in an effort to pull him forward, but the man remained unmoved. “What was that for?” Alex asked once Michael had released his lips. 

“I wanted to kiss you,” Michael said softly, running the tip of his nose along Alex’s cheek. “Things felt awkward earlier. Too formal, maybe. I wanted to remind both of us that there’s no need to be nervous around each other.”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Alex whispered, matching Michael’s hushed tone. “If I lost you again...” 

“Not possible.” Michael smirked. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” he said simply, shrugging like it was inevitable, and Alex felt himself relax. 

Dinner was enjoyable and not at all the strained disaster Alex had half-convinced himself it would be. Michael updated him on what Max and Isobel were up to and Alex passed along what little information he had on Liz; he knew she and Michael had bonded while she’d been in Roswell and didn’t want Michael to feel completely cut off. Wary though he was to bring up Forrest, Alex did have to give Michael a heads up regarding their current relationship status. 

“I don’t want it to become a problem with us, but I need you to know that Forrest and I parted as friends. I may see him occasionally. I won’t force you to hang out with him or see him, but –” 

“I have no problem with Forrest,” Michael said, interrupting him. When Alex only pursed his lips, he added, “Okay, he may not have been my favorite person when you guys were dating...” Alex gave him an even more exaggerated look of disbelief and Michael amended, “Maybe I plotted his dismemberment once or twice, but it wasn’t like I had a spot picked out to bury the body or anything.”

Alex laughed despite himself. Honestly, he couldn’t blame Michael all that much. His love of Maria and their prior friendship was pretty much the only thing that had kept him from turning into a giant green jealousy monster whenever he’d seen them together. 

Michael continued. “I like him fine as an individual. But it felt... wrong to see you together. I’d never thought of myself as a jealous person before this, but I wanted to pound him into the ground for touching what’s mine. I - I mean...”

Alex picked up and pressed a kiss to the back of Michael’s left hand. “I’m yours,” he said simply, staring at him with those dark, empathetic eyes. “And you’re mine.”

For a moment, Michael let himself fall into the deep wells of Alex’s eyes, so completely content to stay here for eternity, but after a while Alex stood and began clearing the table. 

“Let Oz out into the back yard. Dishes will only take a minute.”

Michael obeyed, watching the funny gray and black furball run in circles around the fenced in yard. Then arms circled his waist and Alex’s chin rested on his shoulder. 

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” 

“Yes, but first,” Michael turned in Alex’s arms. “Would you play your song for me? I missed the beginning and ending first time you played.”

A bashful yet pleased expression graced Alex’s face. “Uh, sure.”

“Is Oz gonna be okay out there alone for a few minutes?” Michael asked as Alex got himself set up on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, it’s completely fenced in, he shouldn’t be able to escape. Let him tire himself out.” Alex turned the keyboard so he could look up and see Michael on the couch while he sang. That first performance had been a big deal for him personally, breaking free from his father’s poisonous influence and deciding to be true to himself and to hell with what others thought of him. This time was obviously more intimate, he was singing a love song he wrote to the love of his life. 

As Michael listened to Alex sing, he felt wave after wave of love and awe and pride crash into him. Was this really happening, after all these years? They were finally on the same page, ready at the same time...

He didn’t realize he had tears in his eyes until Alex finished the song and came over to him. He leaned down and tilted Michael’s face up and pressed feather-light kisses to his cheeks, erasing the tear tracks.


	8. Saturnalia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting the last chapter out. Real life got busy and I wasn't able to finish earlier in the week like I had planned.

Heart clenching, Michael watched as Alex baby-talked at Oz and coerced him into his crate for the night. It was cute and ridiculous and it made Michael love him even more, if it were possible. He wondered idly if Alex wanted kids at any point in the future; he’d be a wonderful father. 

Still, Michael teased him because as soon as he stood up and walked away from the crate, Oz started whining. “You’re a bad dad,” he said, putting on an exaggerated pout for Oz’s sake. 

Alex smiled. “He’s fine, we’re crate training. But I should leave now or I might cave and let him in bed with us and I don’t want an audience.” He took Michael’s hand and led him to the bedroom, then turned to look at him with the most tender expression. 

Alex sank his hands in Michael’s hair, giving him a kiss that lit his entire being on fire. And when Alex trailed a hand down his stomach to toy with the button of his jeans, he thought he was going to die from the need to feel those hands on his bare skin. 

Breathing raggedly, Michael asked, “What do you want, Alex?”

One hand buried in Michael’s curls and the other clutching the waistband of his jeans, Alex said, “I want to make love to you. I want to be inside you.”

“Yes,” Michael rasped. He’d only bottomed a couple times in his life, both with Alex of course, and it had been ages. He found himself swelling further in anticipation. Alex seemed so much more confident than he had those rare moments in the past and Michael liked seeing him grow this way, taking the lead. 

Alex stripped Michael slowly, taking time to stroke and relearn every inch of revealed skin, then allowed Michael to do the same to him. When he sat on the edge of the bed to remove the prosthetic, Michael asked, “Can I do it? Can you teach me?”

“Yeah, okay,” Alex said with a soft smile. 

Michael knelt down and Alex showed him how to release the pin from the socket so he could slip off the leg and sit it next to the bed, within easy reach for tomorrow. Then he unrolled the liner from Alex’s stump and put it with the prosthetic, pausing to massage the slightly reddened skin he uncovered. 

“Come here,” Alex murmured, scooting so that he could lay on his side, head on the pillow. Michael copied his position, face inches from Alex’s, tangling their legs together. 

“It’s amazing how familiar this is,” Michael said quietly, stroking down Alex’s shoulder and arm, drowning in the deep wells of his eyes. How many times had they lain like this? They used to lie in this exact position and make out in the back of his truck when they were 17. Then there were those rare times Alex had accidentally fallen asleep after they’d messed around in the toolshed, or later in the airstream. They usually ended up this way the next morning, facing each other, sharing breath. 

Alex made the first move, leaning forward and kissing him gently. Michael parted his lips at once, ramping up the kiss slowly until Alex shifted to lie on top of him. The weight was comforting and sexy; he wrapped his legs around Alex’s hips and squeezed, wanting to keep him there, to enjoy the feeling of Alex’s hard length against his own forever. 

Breaking their kiss abruptly, Alex pulled back just enough to meet Michael’s startled gaze. “I love you,” he said with a smile. “I realized I hadn’t said it all evening. Now that we’re doing this for real, I don’t want to hold anything back.”

Michael grinned back at him. “I can do the honesty thing,” he said easily, lurching up to give him another kiss. “I love you too.”

Michael claimed his mouth again, his lips soft and confident, his strong arms holding Alex tight. Alex didn’t want to stop, but the kiss was growing in urgency and their frotting was getting more aggressive. He needed to be inside him. 

He drew back only long enough to retrieve lube and a condom from the nightstand then he knelt between Michael’s legs. Fuck, his cowboy was gorgeous. Leanly muscled with a sexy dusting of hair across his pecs and stomach. But as desperate as he was to finally sate their lust, Alex forced himself to slow the pace even further. They’d never spoken about it explicitly, but Alex thought he was right in his suspicions that Michael seldom bottomed. The last thing he wanted was to hurt him.

Alex watched his reactions closely as he stretched him. Michael’s hand shot out to grab his wrist, but not to stop him or pull away, he seemed to simply want to touch some part of Alex. 

“God, Michael,” Alex groaned. He was so tight around his fingers. “If I last long enough to make it inside you it’ll be a goddamn miracle.”

“No –” _gasp_ , “no worries. We have all the –” _groan_ , “time in the world.” His eyes rolled back in pleasure. Alex stroked Michael’s cock with his left hand while stretching him with fingers from his right. It felt heavenly, but as much as he loved how Alex was taking care of him, he needed _more_. 

“Now. Alex, now. Come here.” Michael gave his wrist a little tug and Alex quickly rolled on the condom and obeyed, rubbing the lube still on his fingers onto his cock. 

Alex hitched one of Michael’s legs over the crook of his elbow and let Michael pull him into a fierce kiss while he pushed slowly past the tight ring of muscle. 

“ _Alex_ ,” Michael breathed once Alex was completely in. 

Forming words was difficult right now, but he had to check in with Michael. “Okay?”

“Move!” Michael demanded, heels digging into the backs of Alex’s thighs to urge him on. 

Alex did, staring into Michael’s enchanting light brown eyes, simply basking in the love he saw there. Michael placed a warm hand on his chest and it felt like Alex had been struck by lightning. He gasped, the tendrils of pleasure emanating from Michael’s warm hand spread throughout his entire body. All he could see, all he could feel, was Michael. Their heartbeats seemed to synchronize. 

All the air left Michael’s lungs. The point where he touched Alex’s chest radiated ecstasy in both directions, his hand held there as if magnetized. He didn’t think he could remove it if he tried. The love he felt was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just coming from him, it was directed _at_ him.

When he came, it was with a visceral cry born deep in his chest and Alex followed seconds after.

His body suddenly boneless, Alex managed to fall beside, and not on top of, Michael’s heaving chest. He rested his head on Michael’s shoulder while he caught his breath. 

“What the hell just happened? It was amazing.” Alex asked once he was capable of speech again. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know...” His brain still wasn’t fully online after that mind-blowing orgasm and experiencing the bond for the first time. “I didn’t know that was one of my powers.” 

“What?”

“Psychic imprinting. We thought only Max could do it.” He was fairly certain Isobel had never experienced this with Noah. It would have brought up uncomfortable questions that neither were prepared to answer while they were both concealing their alien heritage from each other. 

Alex shifted slightly so Michael had the space to turn and lie on his side facing him, then threw an arm possessively across his waist. “You’ve never done that before, huh?” 

Though he’d never created a psychic bond with anyone before and didn’t know exactly how it worked, he tried reaching out to Alex and felt his vulnerability. He was wondering about him and Maria. 

“Only you.” Michael placed his hand over Alex’s chest where, in a day or so, his own handprint would appear. Why had it happened now and not 10 years ago? His brain ran through possible scenarios and theories. The most sappy, love-sick part of him wanted to believe it was because he and Alex were finally on the right track. Maybe the power manifested when he was ready and open and willing to give his whole heart to someone, and when he trusted the same would be given to him in return. 

Alex’s eyes fluttered. He was sated, completely satisfied and exhausted, but he forced his gaze to focus on Michael again. “You’re staying, right?” _For the night? For the rest of our lives?_ He didn’t specify, but somehow he knew Michael understood he meant both. 

“Yeah.” Michael pressed a chaste kiss to Alex’s forehead. “I’m staying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, I hope you enjoyed! All the wonderful comments I received while writing really helped keep me motivated. Y'all are awesome!
> 
> BTW, for the longest time I was determined not to do the psychic handprint thing at the end. I had already done it in my previous Malex fic and it felt repetitive or cliche or something... But then the giant sap in me decided I didn't care. Too much sap or just enough?


End file.
